Dear Present and Future Friends,

We have officially lived in Washington for a month. This month has been filled with new adventures and learning experiences. I was nervous about starting work, but that transition ended up being less stressful than I had thought. I haven’t met anyone, outside of my coworkers, so that has been a bit discouraging.

I have had the same friends for the majority of my life. I have always had few close friends that have proven to be lasting relationships. I have become more and more introverted as I get older. There have been some opportunities for me to introduce myself and strike up a conversation with someone new, but as soon as I think I have the words ready my anxiety grabs me. Maybe it’s the fear of rejection? Maybe I’m afraid that I will say the wrong thing? How do I know if I can trust this person? I don’t know for sure where these fears come from, but those are a few questions that run through my mind when I think I’m ready to meet someone new.

If I could have all of my favorite people here, in my favorite place, then that would be perfect. Thankfully, that is just not how it works. If it did work that way, then I don’t think that I would ever escape my wallflower tendencies. Thankfully, I am able to keep up with my friends and family via texts and phone calls. Seriously, I am SO thankful for FaceTime. Although, when I sit and think about it, I may be using technology as a bit of a crutch. Of course I will continue to use it as a means of keeping in touch with loved ones, but I can’t let it keep me from developing new friendships.

Dear Forever Friend,

You know who you are. I don’t need to tell you, but I do need to say thank you.
Thank you…
for being someone that I can trust.
for all the late nights.
for the dance parties and endless laughs.
for the shoulder every time I have had tears to cry.
for every nonjudgemental conversation.
for the endless support.
for the drink after a tough week.
for being my voice of reason.
for the girl’s nights.
for missing me as much as I miss you.
for sharing your life with me.
for encouraging me to meet new people.
for feeling that tinge of jealousy, that I know you will, when I do make friends.
for picking up right where we left off, every single time.
for knowing that we are forever friends.

Dear Future Friend,

I may not know you yet, but I will have plenty to thank you for.
Thank you…
for taking the time to talk with me.
for being someone that I can trust.
for being my first friend in my new home state.
for being part of my new adventure.
for understanding that living in a new place has it’s difficulties.
for every coffee date.
for every girl’s night.
for sharing your life with me.
for encouraging me to meet new people.
for being another creative soul.
for feeling that tinge of jealousy when I am missing a forever friend.
for becoming another great forever friend.

Love always,
your forever friend.

I learned from a man and am a descendant of a coward.

There have been different versions of myself my entire life. These versions were created from others defining me. Most never meant any harm by it, but whether they knew it or not they were giving me a version of myself that I had to figure out how to understand.

Korie, the girl who’s brother died…

Korie, the mixed girl…

Korie, the girl who lives with her grandparents…

Korie, the girl with a great voice…

Korie, the girl who’s mom died…

Korie, the girl who brings her grandpa to Father’s Day events…

Korie, the girl who is sick…

These are just a few of the versions of myself with which I have lived. I plan to write about all of them, but there is one that has been really striking a chord with me lately. “Korie, the girl who brings her grandpa to Father’s Day events.” I love my Paw (that is what I call my grandpa for future reference.) He is the wisest and kindest man that I have ever met. He is my father figure and I am thankful for that each and every day. He loves unconditionally and finds so much joy in his family. When I was younger he would come to my school and church events for anything “father” related. I can remember being asked, “why is your dad old?” and “why don’t you look like your dad?” I would always answer those questions with, “he’s my grandpa.” There never needed to be any other explanation. Paw was what I knew and he was there, so that is what mattered. I would wonder in the back of my mind who my dad was. I wondered where he was and if he knew about me. I wondered if I looked like him. I wondered if he had a family of his own. I wondered if he wondered about me. I wondered all of the questions that you would think a girl without a father would wonder.

I would make up stories in my head about who my dad was. I never wanted to admit that he was black. I didn’t want to be a statistic, quite honestly. I knew what people thought when they looked at me and I didn’t need to confirm their judgements, even if they were wrong. I liked to imagine that he was a great man. I liked to imagine that if he knew about me that he was wondering how I was and if I was happy. I liked to imagine that one day we would meet…

I met my father four years ago. I was a senior in college and was finally ready to know the truth. I reached out to a friend of my mom’s who I thought might be able to answer my questions. I ended up speaking with my father on the phone. I can still remember how nervous I felt. I was sitting in the commuter parking lot at Anderson University and speaking to my father for the first time in my life! We worked through the initial shock (he claims he did not know about me) and after exchanging some information we learned that we shared the same birthday. That sent chills down my spine. I felt a connection with this man and I honestly can’t even put it into words. We eventually arranged a time to meet in person. The moment I saw him I was completely speechless. I did not know what to do. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to ask him a million questions, but I simply said, “hi” and let out a nervous laugh. This man was my father. I was this man’s daughter.

For the past four years our relationship grew. We would speak on the phone frequently and meet for lunches. He was more than I could have hoped for. He was interested in who I was. He seemed to want a relationship with me. I invited him to my wedding, but he had prior engagements with work. I moved to Tennessee, so we would still talk on the phone and we would meet for an occasional lunch when I was back in the Indianapolis area. I expressed an interest in knowing the paternal side of my family. I wanted to know as much as I could know. He would tell me about his parents, his sisters, his wife, his sons, but when it came to me pursuing meeting them he shut me out. I wonder about all of them often. He created all of that same wonder from when I was a little girl. Now, you could be thinking, “well, maybe he just needed a paternity test to solidify everything?” Trust me, I gave that option many times.

I have no way of knowing any truths. I have no way of knowing if he really didn’t know about me. I have a story filled with holes with an ending like, “we agreed that she (my mom) would have an abortion.” I no longer speak with my father. It has been months since I have ever even received a response from him. I feel like some big shameful secret that I do not deserve to be.

Dear Biological Father,

I am not some mistake that you made in your twenties.
I am not a secret you can keep hidden away.
I am not your “sweetie.”
I am not after your money.

I am honest.
I seek the truth.
I am smart and independent, with no help from you.
I am beautiful. I am bold.

Cowards do not claim their children.
Men love children who are not their own.
I learned from a man and am a descendant of a coward.
I deserve to be known.

As always, stay grateful.
-KP

Accomplishing your dreams is hard work. The preparation and planning that goes into making a dream into a reality is exhausting. There are tears. There is laughter. There is anxiety. There is anger. There are sleepless nights. There is work overload. There is stress. Is it all worth it? Definitely. I don’t think that people understand that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. You accomplish the goal of the dream, but that is not the end of the tears, anxiety, work and stress.

We arrived at our apartment complex with a 16 foot truck and a Ford Focus loaded down with all of our belongings. I had made every preparation before hand to make sure that our apartment would be on ground level because I knew it would only be Levi and myself to accomplish moving all of these things. It should have all went smoothly, but we were delayed in our arrival because the rental truck had broken down in South Dakota for two days. They had moved our apartment around and we were now on the second floor with two flights of stairs staring us in the face.

There were tears. There was anger.

We started carrying up the essentials. We were running on fumes as we hadn’t slept in over 30 hours. We just wanted to have all of our things in our place. We wanted to return the terrible Budget truck and we wanted to settle in to our new home. We carried everything that we could and after so many tears and angry words we parked the truck at the back of the parking lot and had hope of help for the following day.

A new day. First on the list was getting our car off of the trailer which was a daunting task on its own. Once we had that finished we had some help from Jim and Chris, two Mr. Rooter guys that gave a portion of their day to help with the big items. The heaviest items were carried up and in our apartment, but it still seemed like the boxes were never ending. We took breaks. We got mad. We cried from exhaustion. We emptied that terrible truck and made a bee line for Budget to get rid of it. The Budget employees were nice enough at that office. They couldn’t help us with any type of reimbursement, but at least they were more friendly than the customer service reps we dealt with along the drive.

Next on our list: FOOD. We hadn’t had a real meal in days and had been living off of fruit snacks, goldfish, cookies and granola bars (thank goodness for grandmas). We stopped at Ivars Seafood Bar. Their salmon and chips is AMAZING especially after the journey we had been on.

There was laughter. We made it. 

We had a few days before my work schedule started, so we did our fair share of exploring this new city of ours. We embraced the beauty and let reality set in that we were now home. We knew going into this move that Levi was scheduled to go on a tour for the month of November. We knew that he may not be able to start working at a Starbucks here until after he returned. We have planned financially to the best of our ability.

There was stress. There was anxiety. 

Some know that we have been burned in the past with Levi’s music business career. We were treated terribly when we lived in Nashville, which resulted in us moving back to Indiana. We were told a lot of empty promises, but we chose to rise above. I, personally, have a very jaded view anytime an opportunity is presented for Levi to go on tour. I immediately think of past experiences and get angry at the way certain individuals in the music business devalue others, especially when it effects my family. Regardless of circumstances we have made the choice to keep pushing through. We have been thrown some unimaginable obstacles, but we figure out a way through them.

Seattle is a dream that we made a reality, but it was not easy and is still not easy. Some think we have achieved all of our goals. Some think that all of the hard work is done. It is not my friends, it is only just beginning. It’s one thing to reach your dream, but it’s another thing to hold on to it. We continue working. We continue to have laughter, tears, stress, anxiety and anger. We continue to live, but with some different views. So, for those of you thinking that we “have it made” please think again. We are working just as hard, if not harder as the rest of you. You can get where you want to be as well, but not without the good and the bad.

I am happy. I am happy to be where I am and who I am with, but you cannot have one emotion without the others.

Continue to stay grateful and thank you for reading.

Here are some photos from our journey: